


beside you (the whole damn time)

by TLvop



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Background Character Death, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Gen, Platonic Female/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLvop/pseuds/TLvop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifteen years ago, Jemma Simmons approached Leo Fitz to help him in crafts after long consideration.</p><p>She can no longer imagine a world where she hadn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	beside you (the whole damn time)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).



> Hiii! I really hope you enjoy this, it was a lot of fun to write, and I'm glad I got to be your yule person! :)
> 
> Check the end note for info about the background character death/characterization.
> 
> Thanks to Bodldops for voice checks, and cheerleading. :).

It's ten o'clock in the morning, and that means it's the second hour of crafts, and there are beads of _all colors_ and Jemma knows that at eleven years old she should be tired of making bracelets and lanyards and bead-lizards, but she's really not.

There's a shriek from the back table, and Jemma freezes before peering back. It's the … odd … kid, Leo something or other, he's new this year and Tommy Mathers just smeared a full paintbrush of paint on his cheek. 

Leo's scrubbing it off and just getting more frustrated by the fact it's on his hands, and his shirt, now, and Tommy's looking startled. That might be for the counselor's benefit, Jemma considers as Ms. Lucy bears down on them, but how upset Leo is _is_ startling. He's the same age as them.

After things are quiet, and Jemma's finished her friendship bracelet, she looks for Leo again. He's in a new shirt, but he's sitting quietly by himself with a sheet of paper and some crayons and is paying more attention to the crayons than drawing anything.

Jemma's mom always told her to look out for people who needed friends. Well, that and Sarah decided to go swimming instead of doing crafts, and Maggie's building some sort of sculpture with the boys, and – and she wants to, is all.

She squares her shoulders, picks up her plastic box of beads and lanyards, and goes to introduce herself. Maybe she can teach him how to make a gecko.

\--

The next year, Jemma's camp starts two weeks later, and now she's one of the youngest of the older kids instead of one of the eldest of the younger kids.

It's a big change, and she didn't pack any makeup or nice clothes because it's _camp_ where you go _camping_ , and it's not like she doesn't have nice clothes – she has _lots_ of nice clothes, but no one here knows that, do they?

She feels small next to the older girls, and next to the girls she thought were her peers. She's missed something. She's a _late bloomer_ they tell her, encouragingly, and she's not sure whether or not to be grateful. The boys are even worse. They've turned into an alien species, with an dialect, where every word means something other than what she wants it to.

Jemma's more relieved than she could have expected when Leo Fitz hasn't turned into a gelled-hair creature from wherever men are supposed to be from. He talks about more stuff, now, not just Snow White and animation. He's discovered robotics, which are actually pretty cool if you get him to figure out just how much you do and don't know --Jemma knows _some_ , she _reads_. She can't _believe_ he tried to explain to her what a transistor is. 

He refuses to get dirty, still, but during free time when she goes exploring he follows her around and sits on rocks and tells her about robots and listens when she tells him about tadpoles and did you know there's a frog in Africa that will bury itself in the mud at the end of every rainy season and stay buried until it rains again - they're like amphibian zombies! And they breath through their skin! , and _science_ , and he holds her shoes when she goes wading into the streams.

It's … it's nice. Jemma's wishing that the big kids still had a craft tent, so she could make him a friendship bracelet to cement it, but he still has his gecko lanyard hooked to his backpack, so that'll have to do.

Anyways, boys don't wear friendship bracelets. They … good question.

"What do boys do when they decide they're friends?" Jemma asks, standing up. She's still disappointed she hasn't found a water snake. Sure, none are documented around here, but think of what it'd _mean_.

Leo stills, brow furrowing slightly as he thinks. "Pat each other on the back, maybe? Why?"

"Well," Jemma says, sounding embarrassingly awkward even to her own ears. She looks down at her hands, which are far too wet and dirty to pat anyone on the back with, especially Leo Fitz.

"Oh." He stares at her for a long moment and then he smiles. "It's okay, you're already my friend."

"Yeah, but – only at camp."

"My mom has an e-mail account, do you -- ?"

Jemma breathes out, relieved. " _Yes_."  
\--

It's the summer holidays, and Jemma is in Scotland because she will do anything for a break from the heat. That, and it's her turn to visit Fitz, who's decided that Fitz sounds much more grown up than Leo.

She's lying on her back in a dress, because she _can_ and because L—Fitz's mom gave them a blanket to picnic on. They're pretty close to the road, but there aren't any neighbors out in their yards, so it's fine. It's like a holiday.

Jemma really needs a holiday.

"They can't actually think you're cheating," Fitz declares, for the third time, staring suspiciously at her like it's her fault her teachers are -- are -- are ... _hasty_ , she decides, even if that means she's an Ent.

Jemma tries to resist the urge to explain again. "Well, they do. Maybe _your_ teachers let you get away with—" she almost says _being weird_ "— … things, but mine keep saying I'm not _listening_ \-- and I'm not, because they're so boring I've read it all already. This wouldn't _happen_ , if we just –"

"We can't just go to university, Jemma! We haven't finished yet."

"Not," Jemma holds the rest of her sentence for a long moment, "if we go to the States." 

This is her trump card. Tony Stark started university early, and Fitz might be over-confident but she knows he feels like they are peers (or at least like they will be peers, once Fitz has a couple more years and some more resources to perfect his helper-robot fleet he talks about).

Fitz picks a dry piece of grass, and slowly strips it down. His thoughtful look turns into a small smile, and Jemma bites the inside of her lip to keep from cheering prematurely. 

"That could work." 

\--

When Jemma is 18, her aunt dies of breast cancer. Her aunt and she had been close, when Jemma was younger -- she lived with them for a few years after the divorce, and she taught Jemma how to wear makeup. She didn't think it was the least bit weird that Jemma liked fashion, dissections, bugs, boys, and girls in equal measure.

But Jemma is in America, has been in America for _years_ , president of the student biology association, with three labs and four lecture courses and working in the lab _hoping_ against hope that her professor will accept her as a doctoral candidate by the time she graduates in the spring. Her aunt being "sick," had been a concern, but a distant, unreal one. She sounded tired on the phone, but...

Her professors let her off for the funeral. Leo's don't, except his history teacher. He skips two labs, three classes, and a math midterm ("it's only Linear Optimization, Jemma,") to follow her home.

On the flight there, she's silent. She re-reads _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ , and tries not to think of how much time she wasted.

On the flight back, she alternately cries into Leo's shoulder and sleeeps.

\--

"Simmons!" Fitz calls out, slamming the door open.

Jemma almost hits her head on the door of the cupboard, from how hard she startles. " _Fitz_ , you don't have to yell," she says, straightening. He peeks into the kitchen. "Getting Oreos should _not_ be a high-danger task."

Fitz grins at her, stealing a couple before pulling himself onto their counter, heels tapping against the pressed wood. He dismantles one of the Oreos. "I got us a job."

Jemma's eyes narrow. "I'm in the middle of my dissertation, Fitz. You know I can't do a job while I'm doing a dissertation, remember last time?"

"They'll wait. No, seriously, Jemma – they think you're really clever, and I told them I wasn't going to go haring off without you." Fitz winces, suddenly.

"Haring off? What sort of – "

"The government." Fitz says, and even his Oreo-eating is morose. "I wasn't supposed to say _who_ they were. They're going to contact you tomorrow."

"You gave some government goons my contact information."

Fitz rolls his eyes. "One, we live together, and _two_ \-- your lab's in the phone book. And _three_ , they're not goons, this isn't like – like – Jason Bourne, or something. It's just… interesting."

Jemma sighs. "I'll talk to them."

Fitz grins, and doesn't even actively protest when Jemma steals one of the Oreos he took from her.

\--

"Oh, Fitz," Simmons circles him, leaning against the counter so he has to look at her. He's going to like it, he _really_ will, the specs they're privy to are _fascinating_. "It's the most _perfect_ opportunity for us to see the world. We'd be fools to pass _this_ one up."

Fitz looks at her, suspicion writ large on his face, before picking up the file they've been given again.

"Well," he says, "it's pretty vague, isn't it?"

Jemma bites the inside of her lip. She just knows -- if not today, then tomorrow -- he's going to say yes.

**Author's Note:**

> Background Character Death: An aunt has died from breast cancer complications, and there is a section depicting the two travelling to the funeral.
> 
> Characterization: Just in case there's some question about it, I see Fitz as autistic spectrum (I am, myself), which influenced how I wrote him.
> 
> Dear Rivulet027-- I hope you have the loveliest of yuletides, filled with hot/cold beverages of your choice (depending on your ambient weather!), lots of awesome fic, and a solid internet connection :).


End file.
